Like Fine Wine
by Silvermist Nightray
Summary: It was just one night. Feliks Lukasiewicz had gotten himself horribly drunk, after his boyfriend of two years left him to marry a pretty little Belorussian woman. After his fifth bottle of brandy and passing out on the counter, he had no idea he'd wake up the morning after in somebody else's bed. To make matters worse, reclusive Lars van Rijn had no intention of letting him go.


**Silver's Drabble:** Hey there everyone, it's me again! This is my first time writing a serious fanfiction centered around a crack pairing my circle of friends chose for me. We had this little game called "Crack Pair Dare" and we bet that the loser would have to do one of everyone's chose homework once school starts up again. They picked Netherlands X Poland for me, and although I have never worked with these two characters in any fanfiction I've done so far, I wasn't ready to give up. It ended up being in the same world as "Playing His Game", but in a later timeline. There might be some hints of what happens to Matthew and Arthur here, but not the whole picture until I actually finish the thing. I'll be updating it next, the second-to-the-last chapter. Here's the result of days of reading various BL novels, a lot of caffeine, and an overactive imagination. Thanks to those kind enough to give this fanfic a chance. Love you guys!

**Warnings:** I'm pretty sure a lot of the characters here are a bit OOC, so please forgive me for that. There will also be a lot of BOYxBOY, implications of my OTP HungaryXBelgium, spoilers of the possible ending of "Playing His Game", and swearing.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hetalia. It belongs to the creative mind of Hidekaz Himaruya.

* * *

The strong smell of alcohol, lit cigarettes and cheap perfume hung thick in the air. Coupled with the sound of a jazz band softly humming in the background, the atmosphere of Eesti Bar was almost intolerable for a certain Polish man. Feliks Lukasiewicz had never been to a bar for the twenty-three years of life, not counting the times he went with his boyfriend Toris Lorinaitis to help out the owner of said bar. Scratch that, ex-boyfriend Toris Lorinaitis. Ex-boyfriend Toris Lorainaits, whom he had been with for the past two years but didn't even tell him about his engagement to a certain Belarussian until two weeks before said engagement party.

"Can you, like, bring me another bottle of this stuff Ed?" Feliks purred, swinging his fifth empty bottle of brandy in the air. "Eduard, are you, like, even listening? Does anyone even listen to me anymore? Am I that totally annoying?" He giggled, completely missing the Estonian's concern as he pried the bottle from Felik's hands.

"I think you've had enough to drink for tonight, Feliks..." he sighed, pitying the man he was so used to seeing smiling and cheerful. "You've never been good at holding your liquor, Feliks. You should stop before you upset your stomach."

Feliks felt his anger surge irrationally. "You don't, like, own my body!" he protested, highly intoxicated now. "I can do whatever I want right now, Eduard. Toris, like, went and did whatever he wanted to do! Sweet, hardworking, selfless and I-though-would-be-faithful Toris went and left me to do what he wanted to! Natalya's a beauty, I know! Compared to her I'm like this little kid lost in a shopping mall. A lost little kid who fell in love to fast! It's, like, totally my fault this happened. I was so blind, Ed! Blind!"

Eduard sympathized heavily with Feliks, that's one of the reasons he allowed the Pole to drown his sorrows in alcohol rather than have him cry to sleep alone in a room he used to share with the one he loved. "Toris was a coward..." Eduard said, mostly to himself. "It was never his intention to hurt you this way, Feliks. He's always cared for you from the start, ever since the two of you were children. His engagement with Natalya... It was sudden. He didn't even have time to tell you about it. It was Ivan's wishes, not his. He wanted to tell you, Feliks, he just didn't want to hurt you."

"Well, he totally did a great job of not hurting me!" Feliks replied, dropping his head on the bar counter. "He should have told me, I would have totally understood..." were the words that slipped out of his mouth, hot tears falling down his cheek. "I, like, know him well. I know he likes Natalya and he just dated me because he felt obligated to. I knew all this, but I tried to convince myself otherwise. I'm a total idiot, Eduard. I, like, gave him everything. All my firsts... I knew a day would come when Ivan gave in, when Natalya mellowed down. I tried to, like, stop it from ever coming... I'm so hopeless, Eduard. I'm, like, totally hopeless..."

Closing his eyes, Feliks fell deeply asleep. The last few moments his intoxicated mind remembered was the sound of Eduard's exhausted sigh, a stranger's muffled voice, and strong arms carrying him away from the bar counter.

* * *

The morning after getting drunk felt like living hell, Feliks realized as he cradled his throbbing head in his hands. Other than this morning being his first hangover since forever, Feliks had a strange burning sensation in his stomach as if he had just drunk a bottle of acid. To make matters even worse, his eyes were blurry and he couldn't make out where he actually was. He let out a long sigh, plopping back on the soft bed to continue sleeping. It wasn't until he shifted his body to the right that he noticed something that shouldn't have been there in the first place... A man was lying next to him, staring at him with his forest green eyes.

"What the-" he cried out, jumping out of the bed. "W-Who are you and, like, what are you doing here?!"

The man riased an eyebrow, his mouth set in a thin line. Lightly ruffling up his dirty blond hair, he picked up a pipe on the bedside table and lit it with little to no concern over the troubled Feliks glaring at him. "Do you know you're naked?" he asked, exhaling a puff of smoke that made Feliks cough.

Feliks blushed brightly, hurriedly picking up the bedsheets to cover his lithe body. He always had these strange pangs of anxiety when he was with strangers, and the man in front of him was more than a regular stranger he'd bump in to on the streets. "Y-Y-You totally haven't answered my quesitons!" Feliks demanded, his voice coming out as more of a squeak and less of a bark. "Who are you and why are you here?"

"Lars van Rijn." came the man's reply, followed by an outstretched hand. "You should sit down, you'll trip if you move wrapped up in those sheets."

Feliks looked at the outstretched hand, mentally arguing with himself whether he was gonna take it or not. "Nic mi nie jest!" he said defiantly, choosing not to take the man's hand. "So, Lars van Rijn, why are you here?"

"It's my apartment," Lars shrugged, continuing to smoke his pipe like it was the most natural thing to do in the situation. "I have very right to be here."

"Like, why the hell am I here, then?" Feliks continued to bombard the man with questions, leaning on the bedside table for support lest he collapse from the terrible headache his hangover was giving him.

"You ask a lot of questions..." Lars sighed, leaning back on the bed's headboard. "I brought you here after you passed out on Eduard's counter. It was bad for the business, so I decided to drag you out of there before you end up costing me more money that you're worth."

Feliks felt his right eye twitch, his annoyance with Lars fueled by the man's lack of facial expression. "That, like, totally explains why I'm here in your apartment completely naked and sleeping in your bed. Sure, I'm totally gonna believe your silly little story. Idiot!"

Lars exhaled another puff of smoke, this time to deliberately make Feliks cough up. "You threw up on both our clothes, _brutaal bastaard_."

"Oh... Oh my god..." Feliks felt more embarrassed now than he did when he dressed up as a girl at his high school play. "I-I'm, like, totally sorry..." he shook his head, wondering why his emotions at the moment made no sense to him. "Was it, like, really that bad?"

"I'd rather burn that suit than wear it again." was the Dutchman's cold answer.

Feliks winced, physically hurt by the reply. "I can, like, pay you back?" he sounded reluctant, his mind calculating the amount he had saved up in the bank.

Lars looked him in the eye, as if daring him to even try to compensate. "Do you have any idea how much those five bottles of high class brandy you drank yesterday cost?"

The Pole shook his head. "I-I'm pretty sure I, like, don't even want to know anymore..." he murmured softly, playing with a strand of his hair. "I, like, really put myself in a horrible situation right?"

Lars wanted to smile, but he wasn't really that kind of guy. Instead, he patted the smaller man's head. Feliks hair strangely felt silky soft, like his little sister Laura's hair. He couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia, especially when Feliks looked up at him with such an amused look. "You really have no idea who I am, do you?" he finally asked, letting out a deep breath.

"No, not really..." Feliks shrugged. "Unless... Unless you're this, like, stuck-up Prince from another country who came here to find a suitable wife so as to avoid an engagement with the woman of your nightmares. If that's what your looking for, like, I don't really want that role. I'm, like, not gonna be anyone's fake bride. You can totally count me out, Mr. Stuck-up Prince."

Lars stared at him, wondering if the man was trying to make a joke or was genuinely serious about his whimsical accusation. The earnest look in Felik's eyes told him he was serious. The Dutchman had to give him credit for being incredibly dense, though. He considered the notion for a while, but he really wasn't much of a Prince in nature as he was in wealth and status. He wasn't getting engaged to anyone too, nor was he trying to look for a fake bride. But, he was bored. Extremely bored.

Lars shook his head, getting of the bed. "I'll get you some clothes. Wait here."

Feliks simply nodded, holding in a gasp. He was embarrassed to find himself staring at the muscles that were across Lars' back, rippling with every move he made. The Pole wasn't used to seeing someone so well-built shirtless in front of him before. Toris had very firm muscles and was very lean, but not as muscular as the man who stood with his back to him. When Lars turned to face him, he immediately hid his face under the covers to avoid discovery. Luckily for him the man didn't notice. Instead, he threw some clothes at Feliks' general direction and left the room.

* * *

Feliks was escorted to his apartment by a taxi that afternoon. His head had cleared up after a cup of coffee prepared for him by Lars maid. He was glad the man disappeared right after asking him to get dressed. Feliks wondered if he had been busy, just leaving his unwanted guest like that in the huge apartment. He didn't bother asking the maid anymore. It really wasn't his business anyway.

"Welcome home, Feliks. Feeling any better?"

The Pole just stared at the woman opening the door for him. He was sure Elizaveta Hedervary was on a plane right now serving 200 passengers on their way to Hawaii. How was she here, in his apartment, dressed like she was ready to spend the week coaxing his broken heart?

"Veta..." he whimpered. "You, like, sacrifice work for me? Why would you, like, do that?"

The Hungarian rolled her pretty brown eyes, ushering Feliks to come in. "I heard what about what happened from Eduard..." she began, getting her long time friend a glass of water. "Don't worry about my job, called in another stewardess for a little favor she owes me. I couldn't just let you come home to an empty apartment filled with memories now, can I?"

Feliks shrugged, trying to return to his usual self. "I, like, totally wanna paint my entire bedroom pink now..." he teased, gulping down the water. "Liet didn't allow me to do it before. And, like, since he's not here anymore I can totally make this room as fabulous as I want it to be!"

Elizaveta giggled. "I'll be happy to help you with that!" she encouraged, smiling. "I don't think pink suits this room, but hey, your choice."

Feliks looked determined, probably still an after-effect of all the alcohol he had last night. "Let's paint it pink!" he exclaimed, slamming his hands on the table.

Elizaveta laughed. "Relax, Feliks." she said in between giggles. "Don't you have work tomorrow? You just can't walk into work with pink paint splattered all over you!"

"I don't, like, care!" Feliks put in, determined. "Let's paint my bedroom pink, Veta!"

The other half of the day, Feliks spent shopping for the best shade of pink and convincing Elizaveta that everything looked better in pink. The night was spent making sure every available surface of the bedroom walls was covered in the fabulous shade of light pink Feliks picked out at Home Depot. Having fun and doing crazy stuff with Elizaveta took his mind off the lingering memories in the small bedroom.

* * *

"_Broer_! _Broer_, are you even listening? _Broer_!"

Lars shifted his attention from the list of recent sales in his hand to the petite woman tapping her finger on his desk. Laura van Rijn wasn't one to demand anything from him since they were kids, but his little sister seemed to be so set on this idea about opening a boutique that she had stormed into his office and confronted him.

"What do you want, Laura?" he asked calmly, without any hint of emotion.

Laura sighed, pouting as she leaned forward on her brother's desk. "Can't you reconsider my request to be there on the grand opening of my boutique? Please, _Broer_? I didn't even ask you for any money, just your presence in the grand opening? Please?"

"I already told you I'll be busy, Laura." he answered nonchalantly, returning his attention back on the papers in his hand. "I already sent the complimentary flowers, isn't that enough?"

He could hear his little sister whimper, dropping her head on his desk and pouting up at him. "You've never been this cold before, _Broer_..." she sighed softly, "Whenever I'd pull you away from your chores to play, you always went willingly. Did I turn you into this emotionless businessman, _Broer_?"

"Will it still be okay if I arrive late?" Lars finally agreed, giving up.

Laura beamed, her smile bright enough to light up the whole room. "_Meen je dat_?!" she squealed, hopping about the room in happiness. "Of course it's okay if you'll be late! I've always known you hate interacting with people, so you can come anytime you think it's okay! Just be there, _Broer_! No matter how late! You have no idea how much this means to be, _Broer_!"

Lars felt the corners of his lips pull up in a smile, but decided against showing it. "I'll keep my schedule open from nine to nine-thirty in the evening tomorrow. You're okay with that?"

"_Ja_!" Laura winked, sashaying out of the room. "I have this little surprise for you tomorrow too, _Broer_, so don't go back on your word!"

Lars rapidly blinked his eyes, wondering if his meddlesome sister had some sort of plan to show him off to her friends again. He began to doubt what was the real reason for wanting him to go to the opening now. It was too late to go back on his word. Whenever he promised something, especially to his little sister, he always kept it.

* * *

"I don't think he's gonna come. He always says he'll make time, but he never comes. _Broer_ has always, always, always broken his promises!"

Feliks watched, worried. His new boss, a nice lady Elizaveta had introduced to him as Laura, was pacing the floor of the newly opened boutique muttering things to herself about broken promises and idiot older brothers. "He said he'd keep his schedule open from nine to nine-thirty. What time does he think it is?! It's ten in the evening! He should have been here thirty minutes ago!"

"Are you, like, okay there?" Feliks gingerly approached the young blonde, tapping her shoulder gently. "You know we can all, like, hear you talking to yourself?"

Laura sighed, smiling a little. "_Oui_. I'm a little aware of that..." she giggled softly, staring at the now empty boutique. Some of the employees had begun cleaning up what was left of the opening party, gathering wine glasses carefully into basins and sweeping up paper plates. "I just thought my older brother would be here by now..." she whimpered, collapsing into a nearby chair.

Feliks pulled up a chair to sit next to her, placing his elbows on his knees and leaning in to hear Laura better. "Is your brother, like, a busy man? Something must have happen, like, at work or something?"

"That's always his excuse..." Laura said under her breath, "I knew he would do this, but I still believed he could keep his promise even once."

Feliks scrunched up his face. "I, like know what you're feeling right now..." he agreed, playing with a strand of his hair. "Guys are like that some times. They make you believe that, like, they'll keep this really important promise only to break it because something more important came up. Don't, like, worry about it. I have a feeling your brother, like, loves you. He's just, like, not the kind to show it."

Laura raised her eyebrows, staring at Feliks. "Wow..." she murmured, "Now I know why Elizaveta asked me to hire you. Not only are you good at choosing clothes that flatter, you flatter the person too."

Feliks shrugged, smiling. "I, like, talk to women as if I'm trying to comfort a younger, more naive me. It, like, comes naturally to me now."

Laura raised from her seat, slowly walking back to the counter from their position right beside the door. "He won't be coming... Might as well lock up."

Feliks volunteered, catching the key Laura threw at him, humming to Tata Young's song "Sexy, Naughty, Bitchy". He was just about to lock the front doors when a hand tapped the glass. Looking up, he came face-to-face with the man whose bed he shared the other night. Lars' eyes grew wide at the sight of him, Feliks felt like he was about to faint. This was an encounter neither of them expected.

"_Broer_, you're actually here!" came Laura's excited squeal in the background. Absentmindedly, Feliks stepped aside from the door and let Lars in. He wanted to shrink away somewhere, maybe the back door where the other employees where busy fixing things for the next day. He'd rather risk breaking a nail carrying cardboard boxes than meeting with the man he thought he'd never see again.

"I'm too late?" Lars asked Laura, patting the shorter woman's head. "Everyone's left already."

Laura rolled her eyes. "I knew you'd be late, but not this late!" she sighed, shaking her head. "I know you hate people, _Broer_, but couldn't you just come and shake hands with some old friends? Arthur was here a little while ago with Matthew. He wanted to ask you about some sort of business stuff. I'm not good at that, _Broer_. You should have been here to answer his questions."

Lars shrugged, taking off his coat and throwing it at a nearby chair. "If Arthur wanted to talk about business, he'd come to my office..." he replied, "I guess he was here to show Matthew around, or something."

Laura giggled. "Speaking of Matthew..." she began, "Have you found yourself a significant 'other' too, _Broer_? It took Arthur five years, but he finally did it. How long will it take you?"

Feliks wondered if he should be listening to this conversation. He tried to inch his way to the back door, but he'd have to walk behind Laura to get to it and risk being spotted by Lars. He decided to listen a bit and just forget everything later when the time called for it.

"I don't need one, Laura." was Lars reply. "When will you give up on this, _Zusje_?"

"Until you finally find someone to make your life a little more interesting, _Broer_!" Laura put a hand on her hip, "As your little sister, I feel it's my responsibility to make sure you're love-life is as fulfilling as your career. Don't you want somebody to come home to late at night? Someone who'll cook dinner for you, sleep late waiting for you, spend the night cuddling with you?"

Feliks could tell Lars was scowling, even if the man's back was all he could see. "I don't need those right now, Laura."

"You say that all the time!"

Feliks really wanted to slink away now, feeling the conversation was becoming a little more personal. Besides, he learned more than he needed to know about Laura and Lars from the little exchange. He learned that they were siblings and Lars was older. He learned Lars was having trouble with commitment issues and Laura wanted him to settle down. And, sooner or later, Laura might hear about Feliks little drunken encounter with Lars last night if the woman pushed the Dutchman enough to expose it.

"Why don't you try it out with Feliks?"

The Pole shook his head vigorously, too lost in his own thoughts to have heard where the conversation had headed. "_Co?_"

Laura walked toward the stunned blonde, patting his back. "_Oui_, Feliks is a nice guy. Why not, _Broer_?"

Feliks' eyes widened as Lars stared at him from top to bottom, as if carefully considering the choice of dating. "_Nie!_" Feliks yelled, pushing Laura away. "Like, hell no! I am, like, in no shape to be seeing someone right now. You can, like, totally count me out on this one. This isn't even, like, in my job description Laura."

Laura sighed. "Well, there goes my little surprise for the night."

Lars coughed. "Excuse me, _Zusje_?"

Laura shook her head, dejected. "Don't mind me _Broer_." She walked toward him, sighing rather loudly. "Just... Just come to the boutique more often, please? I-I know I can't convince you to seriously start seeing someone, but the least you can do is try. A lot of people come here, you know. Maybe one of them might be your type?"

Lars shrugged, patting his sister's head affectionately. "Fine."

Laura smiled weakly, making her way to the back door. "By the way..." she called out over her shoulder, "You owe me dinner today for waiting so late. Oh, and Feliks, too."

Feliks knew he was blushing from the way his cheeks were burning. Lars looked at him and he turned his gaze away, embarrassed enough from being considered someone of Lars' type. "I'm sorry she dragged you into this..." were the first words Lars said directly to him that night. He shook his head, smiling a bit. "_Nie_..." he mumbled, "I-I tried out for the job, like, on my own free will. What she said earlier was, like, the only thing that caught me off guard."

Lars raised an eyebrow, slumping into the chair where he had thrown his coat on. "If you're working here, we'll be seeing more of each other, _ja_?"

"_T-Tak_." Feliks gulped, wondering if it was too late to run into the back room. When Lars stopped speaking to him and busied himself with lighting his pipe, Feliks closed the front doors and hurriedly rushed into the back room.

"We won't talk about last night..." were the last words he heard from Lars before the doors closed behind him.

He shivered at the thought of ever bringing up the unusual circumstances of how he met Lars van Rijn. The Dutchman probably still had his clothes by now, or burned them because Feliks puked on them. He wondered if Lars had taken care of him when he was drunk, maybe even helped him take a bath when he got vomit all over himself. It was a sweet thought, imagining the muscled Dutchman fretting over him. Shaking his head, he cleared away the thoughts of what possibly happened between them that fateful night. He'd be seeing the man more often now that he found out he and Laura were related, so he didn't want his mind to wander off too much.

Little did the naive Feliks know Lars thoughts were far, far more interesting.

* * *

**_To be continued..._**


End file.
